His Haven
by Kirjava Deamon
Summary: A Dtent boy watches as his daughter, Haven, grows up. Some short vignettes showing; can you guess which Dtent boy? Cute, fluffy. (complete)


> > > > > > **His Haven**
>>>>>> 
>>>>>> _By Kirjava Deamon_

**__**

**One of the Dtent boys vignettes with his daughter. Cute, fluffy-like. **

"Daddy? When you were this many age," she says holding up three fingers "were you like me?"

"Of course I was, Haven. I loved fireworks," he would reply, seeing the Forth of July lights explode into the endless sky.

"Me too!" she would scream and fling her arms around him. He would smile;

"You're my little Haven," he'd say. 

"Where's Mommy?" she'd ask with her head buried in his neck.

"She's…" he pause "on a long vacation…" he'd add guiltily. She was gone, gone with the wind.

"She'll come back, right?" Haven'd say fearfully. The light of the fireworks reflecting in his daughter's eyes.

"Of course," he'd glance around the room, fear in his eyes. He expected her to come back, back to take Haven from him. His Haven, only his and not hers. But Haven had her copper tassels, his pale eyes. He saw _her _in his Haven.

His Haven.

"Dad, when you were my age," she said meaning seven "what were boys like?"

"They would chase girls like this!" he'd pounce on her, her shrieking with delight. She tossed the softball in the air only to have him ketch it.

"Did you?" she'd ask with a flicker in her pale eyes.

"Honestly, I was afraid of girls then," he'd answer. 

"Still are?" she'd inquire, tilting her head to one side.

He wouldn't answer, but his mind said yes. He was afraid of _everything_ but his little Haven. His Haven. Not like her mother, _never_ like the Texas chick, red head vixen Laura. Never.

He tossed her back the bass ball, eyeing the shovel that lay next to the garage; it hadn't been touched in years, since he was sixteen.

His Haven.

"Dad, when you were my age," she said intending thirteen "did you like any girls?" 

He blushed, "I liked one girl and her name was Jessica." She's point and laugh, them sitting on the porch, on the swings. He'd tickle her and say,

"I know that you like that Timmy Lawson!" she'd just laugh.

"He is so _yesterday_!" she'd giggle, "but Dad, why is Mom gone? Ren's mom is with her family," she'd suddenly go serious, too serious for a teenager. 

He'd stay silent. 

"Daddy, when you were my age," she would say imposing sixteen "what did you do to go to jail?"   
  
"I didn't go to jail, I went to a place called Camp Green Lake," he'd respond, still wondering what a yellow spotted lizard's tongue looked like.

"Did you like it there?" 

"Hell no," he'd reply and take out a lighter, lighting a cigarette he'd never smoke.

"Dad, can I see that?" she'd grab it from his hand before he'd reply.

"As long ad you don't go near any styro phone alright, Haven," she'd smirk.

"What was Camp Green Lake like, Dad?" she'd ask not looking, focusing on a wet stick with the red lighter.

"We had to dig holes everyday. The holes were five-foot- by –five-feet wide and deep, in the 140° heat. In my tent there was Squid, Magnet, Caveman, X-ray, Armpit, Zero and Twitch and Barfbag," he took a breath, "the food was weird, there were video cameras everywhere and like you, I had paranoia," He didn't add the last part, knowing how afraid of the sewer clowns Haven was.

"Damn," she cursed for him.

"Haven don't curse,"

"But you do!" 

"Because I'm older."

"Dad, when is Mom coming back?" she asked for the hundredth time, changing the subject.

He sighed, "She's never coming back, and she's gone."

"Gone with the wind?"

"Yes."

His Haven. His little Haven from a storm, the storm, Laura, the red head vixen.

_Dad, _

_ I've left to find Mom. I don't know how but I'm gonna find this Laura Smitten or I won't be coming back. I know when you were my age, twenty, you ran away from Houston to here, Green Lake, Texas. Why? Because of memories? Well I want to find her, give me a memory of my mom. I see her when ever I look in the mirror, Dad. I need to find her._

_Your daughter,_

_Haven._

His Haven's grown up. He'd expected it. _She's chasing fireworks now._

  
  
He'd open the door warily one day, living alone had taken its course. He was a depressed man now, still living in a dying hope for his daughter's return. His Haven. 

"Hello, Dad," a woman with crazy red hair greeted him. A woman of twenty-three, his Haven.

"Haven?" he'd ask, she just would rush into his arms, crying.

"Shh, it's okay now. Did you find Laura?" he murmured to the crying female.

"S-she didn't want me," she whispered, red eyes looking at pale ones, her father's eyes.

"I want you…my Haven," her whispered back, holding her tighter. 

His Haven came with the wind.


End file.
